Chapter 4.

I walked back into work feeling optimistic and empowered. I would file the dreaded HR complaint and finally get Hyun-suk out of my life, not to mention prove to myself that I could handle the matter. I wasn't sure how my dad would react, but I could only control so much. I'd be proud of myself. That would have to be enough.

My dad's office was the only one along the wall of windows that was fully enclosed for privacy. It was on the opposite end of the floor as my office, so I didn't run into him all that often. In fact, my job in marketing didn't require a whole lot of interactions with the CEO's position, but every now and then, I'd have a budgeting issue or some other business matter that needed to be signed off on by my dad.

On this particular occasion, I had budgeting paperwork that needed his signature. When I approached the open door, I heard my dad's steady voice as he spoke to someone from within his office. I listened at the door for a moment to decide if I should wait or come back later.

"I called to speak with the concrete rep this morning, discovered the guy killed himself," came my father's voice.

"The Min kid? The one you met with last week?" I recognized that voice as well - it was my dad's long time best friend, my Uncle TOP. I wasn't sure if Seunghyun was technically related to me - he wasn't an uncle but had carried the honorary title since I was little. He'd been a part of our family for as long as I could remember. He'd even been a pallbearer at my brother's funeral.

"Yeah. He hung himself just a day after I talked to him. Not sure how that will affect my price negotiations. I f that cousin of his takes over, it'll be a nightmare." My dad had never been particularly empathetic, so his comment didn't surprise me.

"Jackson?"

"Yeah, that man's a lunatic," my dad grumbled.

I decided their talk wasn't overly sensitive, so I poked my head around the corner. "Excuse me, am I interrupting?" I cautiously cut in.

"Lalisa - my favourite marketing pro!" called Uncle TOP. "You aren't interrupting at all, come it."

"Hey, Uncle TOP! What are you doing up here?"

"I was nearby and thought I'd steal your dad for lunch. How have you been?" He rose from the chair he's been occupying and gave me a hug, kissing my cheek like he always did.

"I'm great, just had some paperwork for Dad."

"Marco, this girl of yours is going to run you out of a job soon!" he joked with a warm smile.

"We shall see - she still has a long way to go'" he said coolly. My dad had remained seated behind his desk, not including himself in out exchange.

Seunghyun waved him away like my father's comment was rubbish. "This one's a hard worker. I have o doubt she'll be sitting in this office soon enough."

"Alright, let's head to lunch before you have me forced into retirement." My dad slowly rose and walked to where his jacket hung on the wall. "Lisa, you can leave the paperwork on my desk. I'll have a look at it when I get back."

I offered the two men a tight-lipped smile as they said goodbye. I had no delusions I would be invited to lunch. Whether it was because I was still a child in their eyes or merely because I was a woman, I wasn't sure, but whatever the reason, I was not a welcome addition to their party.

A part of me desperately wanted my father to take me under his wing and include me in things like the occasional lunch with associates. My father had never guaranteed me any position at IFC Seoul, and there were times like this when I wasn't sure he truly considered me an option to replace him. Unless he outright told me there was no chance, I wasn't giving up hope I could rise in the ranks and would continue to do everything I could to make that happen.

By the time I made it home that night, I was exhausted. I never got around to filing the complaint but swore I'd do it by the end of the week. The emotional toll of dealing with the incident itself had been enough for one day. I'd save the drama of dealing with HR for another day.

After changing into something comfy, I warmed up one of the dinners delivered by the meal service I used and poured myself a glass of wine. Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful May evening, I opened a couple windows and sat at the kitchen table.

My apartment was my sanctuary. What Jennie said had said about money had been true - my family had always been wealthy. I was exceptionally fortunate to be able to afford a beautiful two-bedroom place at Nine One Hannam, straight out of college. The living area and bedroom boasted floor-to-ceiling windows, and even the backsplash in the kitchen was a series of horizontal windows looking out onto the city. I had accentuated the light, airy feel of the space with cream-coloured fabrics and a glass-top dining table. Paintings and throw-pillows offered burts of colour and added a homey feel to the contemporary design.

Unlike most twenty-three-year-olds in the city, I wasn't forced to live with a roommate - the apartment was all mine, and I loved it. I didn't have to worry about someone eating my food or bringing home uninvited guests. It was my space to unwind and allow the stress from the day to fall from my shoulders like an unwanted scarf.

The atmosphere was perfect, assuming there were no interruptions or disturbances, such as my mother calling. I should have expected her call - she'd been in constant contact about my youngest sister, Minnie's, upcoming graduation party. I'd had dinner with my parents just the day before, but we hadn't discussed the party. My father has already declared himself fed up with the discussions and forbade the topic at our weekly Sunday dinners.

It would never have been an issue if Mom had settled for a small affair, but that wasn't her style. She was throwing a graduation gala and planned to invite a few hundred of her closest friends. I wasn't certain Minnie would have preferred no party at all, but she had humoured our mother and allowed the production. We were closing in on the final weeks, so my mom's calls had been coming more and more frequently.

"Hey, mom. How's it going?" I said brightly into my phone.

"You are not going to believe this," came her coarse voice. She had been a smoker for many years when she was younger, and though she had quit, she still bore the scratchy voice of a smoker.

"What happened? The caterer running low on the pâté?" I teased.

"If only! Dita decided she's bringing a man. Can you believe that? I'd already made all the table arrangements, and now she's gone and screwed it all up."

Anak Agung Ayu Puspa Aditya Karang, Dita for shot, was my father's younger sister. She was a Thai wild child who gave her two big brothers, and their wives, constant grief. She'd been married three times already but had refrained from having children - a small blessing, according to my mother. Apparently, Dita had met someone new and wanted to bring him to the party.

"The graduation is still three weeks out; there's plenty of time to rearrange thing," I reminded her, hoping she would realize how absurd she sounded.

"I don't suppose you've decided to bring anyone," my mother prodded questioningly. "It would keep things even, that's all."

Of course, I should have known.

"Yeah, Mom. Your question has nothing to do with you wanting me to get married and make babies."

"Of course not!" She paused, and I knew what was coming, "Not that it would be such a bad thing."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get right on it," I muttered.

"You do that, and make sure he's Buddhist - that makes everything easier."

"Alright, Ma. I'm in the middle of eating dinner, so I'll let you go." She hated the use of the term 'ma', but I threw it in there just to rib her. Everyone else used the term, but not our family. My mother had always said it sounded like a dying sheep and demanded we girls call her Mom or Mother.

"I heard that."

"I'm sure you did. Love you, Mom."

"Love you, baby girl." I hung up and sighed aloud. Every bit of tension I'd eased out of my shoulders had snuck back in and begun to pulse in my temples. My parents loved me unconditionally - I knew that. That knowledge should have been enough, but somehow, it wasn't. I wanted them to respect me and be proud of me. Maybe they would say that was the case, but I always felt a dollar short - like who I was and what I did was never quite enough.

When my mom would sneak in a reminder while I was in college that I could always find a man and quit school, it made me feel like she didn't believe in me. I was sure she simply wanted me to know I had options and didn't want me to feel pressured to be a working woman, but that's not how it felt. The same went for my dad. When I first brought them to my apartment after I'd bought it, he suggested I could buy the unit next door and combine the two to give myself more room. Instead of simply congratulating me, there was always a suggestion on how things could have been done differently.

It was my own fault I continued to seek out their praise, but I didn't know how to break the cycle. I had always been the parent pleaser; I didn't know how to be anyone different. That was the part of my personality that made dealing with my boss even more difficult. Confrontation was not my strong suit, but I was going to have to start learning.